


Remember the Name

by pratintraining



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3833818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pratintraining/pseuds/pratintraining
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being left behind on the Berg, his mind slowly being eaten up by the Flare, Newt has nothing left to do but contemplate his past as he tries to hold onto his memories and stop the disease from taking over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember the Name

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a gifset I saw on Tumblr, where I also originally posted this fic. "Remember the Name" is by Fort Minor.

10% Luck

There were a lot of things Newt could call ‘unlucky’ in his life. For starters, he was stuck in the Glade, and even though he ran every day in that stupid bloody Maze, they didn’t seem to be getting any closer to the way out of the damn thing. He didn’t have any of his memories, the other Gladers seemed to have decided he was some sort of Mother Figure at some point in the past year, he was always kind of itchy, and he often wondered what kind of name Newt was supposed to be. But the way he came up in the Box and locked eyes with the boy pulling him out; the way their hands lingered and his heart hammered, that first day he ended up in the Glade. The way that beautiful boy smiled at him. Now that—that was what Newt would call ‘lucky’.

20% Skill

He’d been appointed a Runner surprisingly fast after he got to the Glade. Something about the way he chased after Bark in his free time, they’d said. The Maze was scary, for sure, with its mile-high walls and the threat of a Griever around every corner, but he couldn’t bring himself to care because the boy who’d lifted him from the Box was the one who ended up training him. It was a pleasure to watch his broad back as he ran before him, and the muscle of his arms as he cut vines from the wall; for hours on end, the only sounds in the Maze would be their laboured breathing and their footfalls as they ran on and on. It was for the moments when the boy would turn his head and grin, calling back a cocky, “Need a break, Greenie?” that Newt would thank the stars he was skilled enough to pull ahead of him, laughing all the while.

15% Concentrated Power of Will

It took every bit of willpower to stop Newt from breaking down. Every little bit. After being a Runner for almost two years, it had become appallingly clear that there really was no way out of the Maze–except one. He tried it and failed, and now everyone was looking at him with pain in their eyes, and he couldn’t stop feeling guilty for thinking it would have ever worked. And then the boy walked in. He cleared the room of its other occupants, leaving only himself and Newt. When they locked eyes, something in Newt broke, and everything came flooding out. Words and words were tearing themselves from his mouth, his tears were overflowing, and his sobbing overtook his body, shaking him violently. The boy sat by him, silently, a comforting hand on his lower back. When Newt finished, he looked at the other boy and saw that tears were flowing from him too, silently, like he hadn’t wanted them to escape. His hand clutched at the back of Newt’s shirt, trembling, and his voice was hoarse with emotion. “Don’t you dare try to leave me again, Shuckface,” he’d whispered. Newt sucked in a breath, and when he spoke, his voice was battered with feeling. “I won’t.” And from then on, it took every bit of willpower to keep going. Every little bit.

5% Pleasure

There were glimpses of pleasure. Moments of brushing fingers, playful smiles, crinkled eyes and laughter that filled him with warmth. Every time he spoke Newt’s name, he would revel in its sound–how very glad he was to have met someone that could turn his name into a song. Even his sarcasm was pleasing to the ears, a sure sign for just how far gone Newt was for this boy. His very presence was uplifting, and Newt couldn’t help but marvel at the wonder of it all. He wished he could say he did more than bask in the boy’s being, but he didn’t dare do something like that–didn’t dare ruin the way things were between them. Just being by his side was a pleasure in itself, and he couldn’t have asked for more.

50% Pain

The pain was in the waiting. Newt had been lying on the couch in the Berg they’d left him in, waiting and waiting for the beautiful boy to come back and lift him from the unknown once again. He wanted their hands to linger, their eyes to catch. He wanted to feel the boy’s hand on his back again, strong and sure even when they were both trembling. He wanted to smile and laugh together again, but he wasn’t sure if that would ever be possible now. He tried to hold on to all the good things while he waited–to slow his brain activity and postpone the disease that was overtaking his brain–but it wasn’t working–nothing was helping–there was nothing that could be done and he knew it and everyone else knew it and there was no point in waiting. But he had to slow down. Slow down. Remember him. Ignore the pain. And. Remember.

And 100% Reason to Remember the Name

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Newt had every reason to remember his name, but he bloody well couldn’t. Maybe if he could see his face again, the name would slip from his tongue and he would remember–attach the name once more to the beautiful face he’s been holding onto since they’d all left him in the Berg. But who was he kidding? He was far gone now, and he didn’t want to be seen like this because he knew it wouldn’t last. If he needed to see the boy’s face again to remember his name, he would rather just leave it be. Besides, even without the name, he could still remember his laughter, the colour of his eyes and the sound of his voice, and those memories were enough. Those memories would keep him going for as long as they lasted–but Newt knew they wouldn’t last him much longer.


End file.
